


An Unconventional Life

by averageclawenfangirl



Category: Jurassic World (2015)
Genre: Angst, Clawen, F/M, Fluff, Pregnancy, clawen au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-02
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-04 13:25:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5335727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/averageclawenfangirl/pseuds/averageclawenfangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fic based off of this prompt I received: 'Claire wants to have a child, but is impatient in waiting for the right man (she believes there isn't one out there for her) so she goes through with IVF and successfully gets pregnant. And then she meets Owen Grady.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

Claire Dearing was thirty-two years old, and tired of waiting. She’d been an impatient person for as long as she could remember - wanting to lose a front tooth as soon as Karen did, wanting to start school when she saw her sister walk down the front lawn to the yellow bus, wanting to work as soon as she knew what a paycheck was, and wanting to be the boss immediately after becoming an employee. Claire was in such a hurry throughout her life that she’d never really taken the time to stop and appreciate what she had. Or, in this case, what she _didn’t_ have. 

  
It wasn’t that she thought there was anything wrong with her - on the contrary, Claire thought she’d done well for herself. She indeed had become the boss, at the largest telecommunications company in San Diego. Masrani Global was her kingdom, and she took pride in overseeing every moment of her subjects’ activities. She lived in a smart townhouse, and maintained healthy relationships with her two best friends; Vivian and Zara, girls that she’d gone to school with and would probably say they knew Claire better than she knew herself. There was just _something_ eating away at her conscious that - no matter how hard she tried - she couldn’t forcibly do anything about without drastic measures.

She wasn’t a mother. She wasn’t even someone’s wife. Sure, Claire had had boyfriends, even long term partners. Her twenties were a blur of climbing the corporate ladder, and some guys just weren’t prepared to reach the next rung with her. “You’ll exhaust yourself. You don’t even take a second to breathe, to consider the other people in your life!” Barry, the man in her last serious relationship, had told her with agony in his eyes as he carried the last box of his things from her apartment. _Whatever,_ she had thought. _The right guy will come along soon enough._ Someone on the same page as her, maybe high up in business himself. It would all work out just perfectly. 

The years passed, and the number of dates Claire went on dwindled. Guys who would try to pull her back into bed the morning after, even though her hair and makeup were already perfectly and clothes without a crease. Guys who would try and plan something spontaneously romantic, and not even _consider_ her hectic work schedule. So; on her 32nd birthday, as she blew out her candles, Claire had resigned to thinking that she would never find a man who she was compatible with, someone she’d actually let down her defences for and give her heart to. That stuff only happened in fairytales, right? 

But looking across the dinner table at her sister’s house, her two beloved nephews smiling eagerly at their aunt supposedly enjoying her birthday, Claire’s heart ached for a child of her own. A baby girl, perhaps, with her strawberry blonde hair in curly tufts, chubby hands reaching for her mama. Both Vivian and Zara were married with their own broods, so Claire was consistently surrounded by children. And she was great with them, believe it or not. Spending time with a baby or a child manipulated the part of Claire’s brain that was consistently in corporate overdrive, and caused her to appreciate the sheer beauty of the more simple things in life - something that no man as of yet had been able to open her eyes to. There was something about the breathtaking innocence of a child that had resonated with her for as long as she could remember. And that’s how Claire found herself sat in an IVF clinic on a Tuesday morning, clutching a leaflet in her shaking hand and feeling nervous as hell about her appointment with Dr. Grady in five minutes time.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire's consultation with Dr. Grady is not what she was expecting..

“Ms. Dearing? Dr. Grady will see you now,” the receptionist ushered Claire down a sterile and unforgiving hallway. According to the research she’d done; Dr. Grady was the best in the industry, and Claire was hoping that she’d make this whole _slightly_ terrifying process easier for her. Pushing open the nameplated door, Claire had to wrestle hard with herself to stop her jaw from falling somewhere around the region of her feet.

Her doctor was male, and he was _gorgeous._ Not Claire’s usual type; granted, and she wanted to hit herself repeatedly for assuming he’d be a woman. Dr. Grady was broad in every sense of the word; his white lab coat and casual plaid shirt taut against his toned body. He had a tanned, weathered face; and intensely rich forest-green eyes that crinkled at the corners upon seeing Claire enter the consultation room. “Hey there,” he said, extending a hand out to her, “you must be Ms. Dearing.” Claire thankfully managed to compose herself mere seconds before. _You’re here to talk about implanting an embryo in yourself,_ she told her conscious sternly, _not to moon over this hot doctor like a schoolgirl._

They exchanged pleasantries before getting down to the real issue of discussion. She couldn’t fault Dr. Grady’s compassion for her cause when she explained why she was there, nor the charming yet still professional way he explained what was going to happen to her. “I see you’ve already completed our fertility test a few months back, and everything in terms of your actual egg count seems to be in order. I think our best plan of action here is to consider you for intrauterine insemination, and carry out that particular procedure when you’re ovulating. The sperm from your chosen donor will then be inserted into your uterus and, hopefully, we’ll be left with a perfect result,” he gave a generous smile in her direction, looking up from what she presumed was her medical chart. She could feel some sort of blush creeping into her cheeks, and hoped to god it wasn’t noticeable to him. _Claire,_ she internally chastised herself, _don’t get so damn embarrassed talking about periods and sperm with a guy who’s actually going to help give you a baby! You’re 32, for christ’s sake!_

“Uh, yeah. That all sounds great. Perfect, even.” It was her turn to smile now, nodding over-enthusiastically, even though she was sure her embarrassing bodily functions had given away her emotions _more_ than accurately. He seemed to take pity on how flustered she was, thankfully interpreting it differently. “Look, I know it’s a lot to take in. Nothing has to happen until you’re one hundred percent comfortable; and even then, I’m with you every step of the way. Think it over, talk about it with your loved ones. We’ve got another appointment scheduled in two weeks time, so don’t rush anything. How does that sound, Claire?” She was taken aback by his switch to first-name basis; not because she thought it was rude, but by how much she kinda loved hearing her name roll so easily off his tongue. “Awesome,” she replied hastily, gathering her things about her and readying to leave. “Thankyou, Dr. Grady. I can see why they say you’re the best there is,” she smiled weakly. He shrugged; impressive shoulder muscles rolling in the perfect fit of his shirt, eyebrows raised. “Ah, it’s nothing. And please, call me Owen,” he replied, with a smirk that didn’t entirely fit with the formal aura he’d given off. Claire paused, folding her coat over her arm and finally bringing herself to meet his gaze. “Owen, then.”

“So, what was he like?!” Zara asked over her salad, simultaneously balancing her son Archie on one knee. Her brunette, British best friend pulled no punches when it came to making accusations and Claire wasn’t going to give her any ammunition that she found Owen attractive in any way _at all._ It would only cause trouble. “He was actually really sweet. He made me feel a lot better about the whole thing, you know?” Claire mused quietly, picking at her own sandwich. “Was he old? Like, you know, a silver fox kind of guy?” Zara smirked, and Claire couldn’t help but laugh, and her mind drifted to Owen’s dark unruly hair, his beard perfectly neat but sexily scruffy all at once.. “No, not at all. I think he’s around our age,” she murmured, and thankfully - for once - Zara didn’t read anything into it. “Well, that’s alright then. I know that Karen and your mother are obviously miles away in Wisconsin, so don’t hesitate to call me or Viv if you need anything, _anything_ at all. Okay?” She asked; and Claire just nodded her head, abashed at the show of affection. “Hey, I’m serious. Whenever you need us, we’ll be there. Archie can’t wait to have a playmate! We’re _so_ excited for Auntie Claire, aren’t we?!” Zara cooed at her adorable son, the image of her with his dark hair and bright button eyes. As Claire observed the pair, she found herself wishing the two weeks before she visited the clinic again would somehow fly past. Because she wanted this, right? She wanted her own baby in her arms as soon as possible. It was definitely not because she couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit of excitement at the prospect of seeing Dr. Grady - Owen - once again. Rolling her eyes at her own attitude, she sternly addressed herself: _Get a grip, Claire._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good or bad feedback is always welcome! This is gonna go the distance, so hold on to your butts. And please, don’t shout at me if I get the scientific side of things wrong. I’m sorry. I hope anyone out there reads and enjoys!


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire deals with her blossoming friendship with Dr. Grady.

“No _way,_ Claire. I totally disagree. The best part is definitely when the T-Rex is coming and the water in the glass is vibrating-” Owen paused with a sigh as his buzzer sounded yet again. “Dr. Grady, your next patient has arrived. Shall I tell them to wait a moment?” His assistant’s voice came through the intercom. Owen smirked at Claire, his eyebrows raising in a most devilish way. “Yeah; if you could do that, April, that would be great. I’m not quite done here with Ms. Dearing,” he replied. Claire felt a guilty smile cross her face as she rested a hand protectively over her stomach. “I should go, I’ve taken up enough of your time - even your lunch break. Our appointment finished an _hour_ ago, Owen,” Claire giggled, running a hand through the back of her hair as she stood. “I know. I’ve just never met someone who has such a _tragically_ wrong opinion on Jurassic Park before,” he winked, coming to stand behind her to help her with her coat.

  
Claire turned to face him, quietly alarmed by their close proximity. “If you weren’t such a miracle worker, I’d be a lot ruder to your sorry ass,” she murmured, looking his face up and down in an fluid motion. _Was she flirting?! Oh my god, Claire. This has to stop.._ But the voice of reason in her mind fell silent when she realised the way Owen was staring at her so intensely. Despite herself, Claire couldn’t help biting her lip in a mix of lust and frustration. At that, he seemed to remember himself and the situation, averting his eyes from Claire’s face and scrubbing the back of his neck with a large hand. “Hey, no swearing in front of the baby. I protect my patients from all that shit,” he chuckled, and Claire was half relieved, half disappointed that the tension in the room moments before had seemingly dissipated. “Remember what I said, Claire. Even though it’s early days, get a start on those vitamins and at least _try_ to take a few days outta the fast lane,” he smiled up at her as she opened the door. “Right. Got it. Thanks, Dr. Grady,” she returned his grin. “God, woman. It’s _Owen,_ ” he laughed, his eyes widening in indignation.

Claire was officially, properly pregnant. She had gone through potential donors rigorously, and at last, the time had come. The IUI procedure had been completed in just one day, and was miraculously almost pain free. She had done the obligatory peeing-on-the-stick as soon as she missed her period, and had almost passed out at the positive result. There was no other feeling in the world that she could compare to knowing that she was bringing a life into the world. She’d lain in bed each night since with hands stroking her barely swollen stomach tenderly. Her own tiny human to protect, educate, and love despite the odds. Although it was a highly unconventional way of doing things, Claire liked to think it reflected on her whole life. She never did anything by halves, or down the standard route. Her excitement was barely containable and she wanted the whole world to know she was expecting, to shout it from the rooftops or hopelessly into the void. It had only been a few months, yet she could already feel the iron coils furled so tightly around her heart beginning to rust; to lessen their hold over her ordered life. Of course, she had the unknown sperm donor to thank, but also a certain Dr. Grady.

Owen had insisted he remain present throughout Claire’s pregnancy as her obgyn, and she had no qualms about it. The chemistry between the two of them was undeniable, and it wasn’t the first time Claire had overstayed an appointment. It was strange - they seemed to have _nothing_ in common, complete opposite personality traits, and in any other situation he probably would’ve driven her to insanity; yet something about Owen made her feel as though they’d known each other for years. He was an easygoing soul; charming and intelligent. Although he took his job very seriously, they couldn’t go even a few minutes without a joke, a smirk or an ill-placed innuendo on his part, and these days Claire rolled her eyes in good humour more than ever. However Claire could tell he kept some parts guarded, and she could relate like none other. They’d gotten to know each other well as her pregnancy progressed - sharing hilarious and occasionally tearful anecdotes about their early years, their families and college experiences. They also discussed their aspirations, what they truly wanted from life; even if either of them believed in the supernatural, or soulmates. By the time Claire was four months gone, she felt as close to Owen as she did to Vivian and Zara.

The two girls came to Claire’s apartment that evening for dinner. “So, morning sickness completely gone then, hon?” Vivian enquired as they laid the table. “Yeah, completely. Owen was so great about it, he gave me all these forums to look at and - oh, God, it was _so_ funny..” Claire paused as she noticed her friends’ expressions. They were looking at one another in a knowing way, as if something they’d predicted was coming true. “What is it?” Claire murmured softly, feeling her cheeks starting to redden. “Babe.. You’re head over heels. This Owen Grady is all you talk about whenever we see you, and your eyes light up like bloody New York at Christmas! Don’t try to deny it, you could never fool us.” Zara implored, her eyes widening accusingly as she folded her arms over her chest. “What?! I don’t - why do you always -” Claire spluttered, until Vivian raised a hand to silence her. “It’s not healthy, Claire. Your pregnancy hormones are all over the place already without having this.. Inappropriate crush to deal with, too. Hey,” Vivian tipped Claire’s chin from where it had been pointing guiltily to the floor. “We only want what’s best for you and baby. Remember that.”

Later on, Claire laid in bed with her emotions waging a war inside of her. She couldn’t kid herself anymore. Despite everything, she’d fallen for Owen. Hard. She had nothing to prove he’d even considered feeling the same. They hadn’t even kissed, he’d never held her properly in that way. That didn’t mean she hadn’t imagined it. His strong biceps circling her small frame, making her feel as light as air while his lips worked magic on her own. It had to stop. It was the most ridiculous situation she’d ever gotten herself in, and not one she could have predicted for all the tea in China. And that’s what frustrated Claire the most - everything in her life was ordered, processed, packaged and on time. Just the way she liked it. Lovers were discovered and disposed of at her discretion. And now, she’d fallen for her doctor of all people, whilst sat there pregnant with another man’s baby. “Oh, God,” Claire sobbed aloud, warm tears coursing down her cheeks. She was truly at a loss as of what to do. Her hands gently cupped her blossoming stomach, and felt an overwhelming sadness overcome her. Claire Dearing always thought things through properly - she always considered all the possible outcomes and risks in any situation. Falling in love had never been a danger that crossed her mind, and now it was too late. 


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire struggles to deal with her feelings for Owen and decides to take action..

“I know it hurts, sweetheart. Are you gonna be okay?” Karen’s soothing voice through the phone from over three states away, calming Claire down as it had always done. When their parents had divorced; the youngest Dearing sister had fared far worse in the early days, and Karen was a constant crutch of support until Claire eventually learnt to close off her emotions. Karen had sought out something to replace the broken home they grew out of - a hasty marriage to a husband she barely loved, but two children who became her heart and soul. And Claire; well, the only thing she took away from the dissolving of her parents’ marriage was that people never keep their promises, and nothing lasts forever.

  
“Yeah,” Claire replied, sniffing profusely as she dragged a hand across her eyes. “It’s just a crush. These hormones are exaggerating _everything_! I’ll be okay.. Sorry, I shouldn’t ring you and worry you like that,” she attempted a watery laugh. “Hey, it’s fine. I’m always here for my baby sister! Listen, Claire.. If it gets too much, me and the boys are _only_ a plane ride away. Remember that.” 

Claire was reflecting on her sister’s words of comfort as she sat at her desk, absentmindedly stroking her belly. She was well into her second trimester now, and was chewing on a pen in an attempt to dampen her nerves regarding her forthcoming appointment with Owen later that day. In the few they’d had since Claire’s realisation of her feelings; she’d kept them short and sweet for the sake of her own sanity, and she could tell Owen was beginning to sense something wasn’t right. Gone was their free-flowing, flirtatious chatter; Claire just wanted to get out of there once they’d discussed the general well-being of her child and what changes she should be expecting. “Ms Dearing?” Claire’s EA, Leslie, interrupted her thoughts, stood at her office door. “Mm?” came Claire’s distracted reply. “Dr. Grady just left a message for you. He was wondering whether you’d be able to make the appointment slightly earlier, at 1.30?” Leslie asked, twisting her hands nervously. Claire was renowned around the office for her no-nonsense attitude, and she never let anyone screw her or her itineraries around. She sighed. _Better get this over with,_ Claire thought. _Just like ripping a band-aid. What’s the point in prolonging the pain?_

“So, shall we take a look at the heartbeat again? And you’re _totally_ sure you want to find out the sex today?” Owen smiled at her in that way he always did, a lazy upward tug of his lips as his eyes crinkled kindly. “Yes, of course. I usually have everything planned in my life, you know? I can’t believe I’ve _actually_ made myself wait this long to find out what I’m having,” Claire herself now smiled down at her bump, cupping her ever-expanding belly with both hands. “Oh, I _definitely_ didn’t get that impression,” Owen shook his head fondly as he winked at her, in a way that made Claire’s gut do something like a somersault. “So. Awesome. Let’s do this!” He replied, snapping a pair of latex gloves so theatrically it made Claire giggle and roll her eyes; momentarily forgetting the blockade she’d built around her heart to defend herself from him.

The lights in the room were dim as Owen pointed out different parts to the growing form of Claire’s baby for her benefit, and although she’d seen it before, this time she was truly transfixed. “Hey, little one,” she breathed, a finger reaching out to trace the image on the screen. “Mama just can’t wait to meet you..” She was horrified to feel a lump in her throat and tears sparking in her eyes. Owen ceased his tender movements of the scanner over her belly, and looked up at Claire, face full of concern. “Hey, Claire, you okay?” His large hand covered her one with ease, giving it a comforting squeeze. “Of course. I’m _totally_ okay. So.. What am I having?!” She asked, with an attempt to sound chipper. She was perturbed to see Owen look away from her, removing his hand like her skin had scalded him somehow. When he returned his gaze, she was lost for words to see that his own eyes were clouding over with tears. “A girl, Claire. You’re having a baby girl.”

As she and Owen looked into one another’s eyes in that moment, the emotions of joy and shock shared by both, Claire finally realised why people actually did this together. Why it felt so important to have a significant other with you to empathise; and emulate your happiness, to know that the life you were bringing into this world would be cherished and beloved by both halves. Sure; friends and family had offered to come, but she knew nothing would compare to sharing something so intimate with a person you loved to death. And Claire didn’t have that. And it was so _painful,_ sitting in this lowly-lit room, lost in the forest of his eyes - agony searing through her heart like a knife - to even experience a fraction of what it would be like with Owen. It made her mourn for something that could have been; in a different place, or a different time. _She had to tell him._

Owen broke her gaze; tearing his eyes away as he nervously cleared his throat, hand scrubbing the back of his neck as he hastily got up to switch the lights on. Claire got herself cleaned up and righted her shirt, trying to make eye contact. “So, uh, we’ll schedule an appointment for two weeks time, y'know, the usual -” he began, searching helplessly for his notebook, and Claire could tell he was trying to distract himself by any means, to do anything which meant he could avoid looking at her. “Owen,” she murmured quietly; now taking her turn to grip his hand softly. “I can’t keep this up for much longer,” she breathed quietly, lowering herself in the chair to be on his level. “I think I’m in love with you. And you don’t have to say anything; I know how ridiculous and absurd and inappropriate it is. But I can’t lie to myself, or to you.” Her voice held out strong, the Dearing determination finding it’s feet. Owen blinked several times at her under the harsh lights for what well could have been eternity. He got to his feet and pulled Claire to her own, hands fisting in her auburn hair as their lips met.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y'all are liking this!


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unexpected part of Owen's life causes problems for Claire.

Claire’s hands gripped the side of Owen’s face with reckless abandon, only knowing their kiss was real thanks to the feel of his beard between her fingers. One of his hands trailed down her ribcage, coming to rest at her hip before gently tugging him closer to him in a way that wouldn’t harm her swollen belly. They remained in a passionate embrace for what felt like _years;_ Claire just couldn’t get enough. It was like Owen had become her oxygen; and her his, judging by the way he showed no signs of relenting.

A knock on the door shattered the spell; they broke apart, both equally breathless. Owen’s arms still around her, he finally spoke. “Yeah?” He enquired weakly, both their heads turning towards the door. “Owen, sweetheart! It’s me, Tory?! _Duh!_ We had lunch planned together,” a woman’s voice floated through the keyhole. “God, I swear you’re just totally _useless_ sometimes. What kind of guy forgets about a lunch date with his _fiancée?!”_ She laughed, rattling the doorknob. Claire felt shards of ice cascade down her throat, quelling the fire that had only just been ignited in her heart. Owen dragged his eyes back to meet hers, and they widened in desperation. In a hushed voice, he pleaded with her. “Claire, _please_ , I can - I can explain, just hold on a moment,” but Claire was already marching to the door, a mask of happiness plastered on her face. 

She stepped out into the hallway, and came face to face with Owen’s fiancée. Tory - as she’d called herself - was heart-stoppingly beautiful. Coffee-coloured skin complemented by lustrous hair shining like hardwood; falling in waves past her shoulders, and russet colour eyes staring at Claire intently. Her perfect face became marred by her twisted expression. “Can I help you?!” Tory asked, clearly disgruntled by Claire’s staring at her. “Oh - I - sorry. I’ll be going now,” she nervously tucked a strand of her own red hair behind her ear; glancing back to see Owen in the doorway, his vision playing like a tennis match between the two women. “So, uh, Claire.. I’ll see you in two weeks. Take care of yourself,” he requested, and she was taken aback to see something reminiscent of desperation in his eyes as she turned away. 

As Claire made her way down the corridor, Tory’s not-so-subtle whisper carried down towards her. “Pregnant women are _so_ weird. Did you see the way she was just staring at me?! That’s why we’re never having any kids,” she giggled, followed by the unmistakable sound of kissing. Claire squeezed her eyes shut in shame, guilt coursing through her like poison. She prided herself on never letting herself be intimidated by _anyone_ \- the surliest old man on the board at Masrani, the bitchiest women at the charity galas she’d attended. Claire Dearing had always been able to hold her own, to give back as good as she got. But something about Tory had unsettled her; and deep down she knew it was because she’d crossed a line. She’d kissed another woman’s fiancée and - despite herself - she would _happily_ do it again. 

“Hey, April. I was just wondering.. Who’s that woman who was outside Owe-Dr Grady’s office just now?” Claire tried to retain her now tightly-stretched false smile as she spoke to the surly teenage assistant. Dropping her nail file and rolling her eyes, April sighed. “That’s Tory - Victoria Hoskins - Dr Grady’s fiancée. She’s a model, apparently, and drives a Lexus her daddy brought her. He’s big in some security firm, I think,” she said, going back to blankly staring at her computer screen. “Oh, right. Okay. Thanks,” and Claire was thankful that April was no longer paying attention to see the tears pool in her eyes.

One search of Owen Grady on Facebook had told Claire everything she needed to know. She hated herself for doing it - for snooping and spying - but she thought Owen owed it to her. She just couldn’t get over the fact he’d _never_ even mentioned Tory - never even slipped in a cute little anecdote about a date they’d been on, or how he’d proposed. She’d clicked on his profile photo - he looked gorgeous as hell, dressed in a blue shirt and leather vest, clearly on an expedition somewhere - and quietly scrolled through the endless photos he had been tagged in by Tory. They looked incredible together - her slim, tall frame pressed against his muscular one; her posing up a storm, and Owen looking a little uncomfortable - in Claire’s opinion. She shut down her laptop and rolled on her side, reverting to the coping mechanism she’d become accustomed to. Jealousy, regret, sadness and longing all jostled for a piece of Claire’s heart and conscience as her hand skimmed over her belly, feeling the baby’s movements inside her. “It’s you and me, baby girl. Against the world,” she murmured; before drifting off into a fitful sleep, plagued by distorted images of Owen clasping a small bundle to his chest, and the shadow of Tory looming in the background.


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire escapes, if only for a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Six parts! Crazy. I hope you guys enjoy.

“Claire, honey, do you want anything from the store?” Karen called from the kitchen. “Uh.. No, I’ll be okay. I think,” came Claire’s wobbling reply. Her cravings were all over the place - she’d found herself in tears, headfirst in the freezer at 5am that morning searching for Ben & Jerry’s. One minute Claire felt starved, as thought she needed to eat every last thing in the refrigerator; the next, as stuffed as a Thanksgivings turkey. This notion was not helped by the fact she was now 30 weeks gone, growing everyday with the life blooming inside of her.

The cravings felt almost superficial compared to the one in the depths of her heart. The kiss with Owen had been almost too chaste to be true; only the fact that the feel of her fingers against his skin - warm as a hearth in winter, smooth as a shell from the ocean - was burnt into her conscience for what could well be forever, reminded her that it _had_ happened. Owen had kissed her and held her in a way that she didn’t think was possible, and she was almost certain it couldn’t be replicated again. But it was so morally _wrong_.. He was engaged. His fiancée - although standoffish, empty-headed and downright rude - was still innocent in this situation. Every night; Claire would play the scene over and over, a silent film that would never cease to torture her.

Weeks after the appointment, she’d taken Karen up on her offer and decided to shun the suffocating streets of San Diego and head out to Wisconsin. Even being within a few miles of Owen was painful; dreading she’d run into him in the coffee shops they’d shared their love for, or even _worse,_ encounter Tory. It was irrational; she’d never seen them before her pregnancy and there was no reason for her to now. It was just the guilt; eating away at her insides, her neck prickling as though the anonymous people she commuted with everyday knew what she had done. How it had made her _feel._

Claire booked her tickets, and left a message with April; to tell Dr Grady that she was escaping for a little R&R, praying that he wouldn’t try to reach her and persuade her otherwise. Not that she thought he would.. The haunting look in his eyes as she’d turned away from him; she couldn’t place the emotion. Regret, hurt, fear.. Longing? She didn’t want to kid herself - Owen has happily engaged, right? Then why.. _Why had he kissed her?_ Why had he poured so many feelings into a gesture that seemed to speak a thousand words?

Karen had met her at the airport with open arms, screeching in the typical sisterly way about how glowing she was. Zach and Gray - her nephews she’d admittedly neglected for years - took a little longer in terms of acceptance, but it wasn’t long before Claire felt as though she’d been a regular at their dinner table for a lifetime. _Family was the most important thing,_ Claire thought now as she glanced across at the boys on the opposite sofa - Gray was enthralled by the idea of a baby cousin and was already Googling presents to spend his pocket money on. She smiled, feeling her little girl sway and kick beneath her fingertips. Claire mentally took back her earlier remark that it’d be just the two of them, against the world. But, yes, she’d always retain her independence, the fierce, headstrong attitude that had made her famous back in the towering offices of San Diego. It was in her DNA, part of who she was. So, she’d lost her way slightly in the recent months. She’d find her path again. 

Owen Grady was a phase, a blip, a scratch on the record of her life. Claire knew herself; she’d gotten over her father leaving, she’d be able to get over the idea she couldn’t have this man she barely knew. She and her baby girl would be just fine; the unconditional love the Dearings could provide would suffice them both. Claire had already developed an wondrously deep bond with her unborn child; a constant companion throughout the changes to her body, the nights she had spent thinking about Owen not as lonely as they could have been. Claire just could not wait to have her baby in her arms; she was like a child at Christmas, clapping her hands in glee at what was in store.

Claire knew her blissful time in Wisconsin had to come to an end soon, though. Her bag in the guest room upstairs was packed and ready to go. She was heavily pregnant now, _way_ into her third trimester; soon it would be too risky to fly. She had childbirth classes to attend, and Claire was adamant she’d have the baby in San Diego. This, despite the fact it meant she’d have to face Owen again sooner rather than later. Every time she closed her eyes; she could see his own, a beautifully intoxicating, beguiling green, his knowing grin as familiar to her as any. _He’s engaged,_ she reminded herself. _He can never be yours._ “Aunt Claire.. You okay?” Zach’s voice shattered her reverie, clearly worried about the agonised expression that must have emerged on her face. She almost snapped her head in his direction, keen for no ammunition to be given to Karen that she was in any way unhappy. “Of course, sweetheart. Bump’s just extra fidgety today,” Claire smiled, a lump in her throat as a result of her false bravado.

“We’re flying down two days before your due date, so re-” Karen began in earnest, before Claire cut her off with a raised hand and a smirk. “Karen, honestly.. When have I _ever_ needed reminding about timekeeping? And if baby girl’s anything like her mama, she’ll get here when expected. Promise,” she smiled, pulling her elder sister towards her for a hug. They were at the departure gate in Dane County Airport, and as the sisters broke apart, Gray did his best to wrap himself around Claire without disturbing her bump. Claire giggled lightly. “Oh, honey, you’re so _sweet._ You’re gonna be an awesome cousin,” she mused, stroking his curls fondly. “Call us when you land, okay? Or, better yet, answer your phone when I call you. It’s the green button - when you see my name, push it,” Karen implored, her eyes widening maddeningly in Claire’s direction. “Oh, _come on,_ mom,” Zach sighed, rolling his eyes and tugging on his mother’s sleeve impatiently. “See ya, Aunt Claire,” he murmured, waving a hand haphazardly in typical sullen fashion. “I miss you already!” Karen called after Claire as she made her way to the check-in desk. _We’ll miss them too, won’t we, little one?_ Claire smiled downwards, smoothing a hand over her shirt. _We’re so lucky to have our family._

Later, Claire quietly let herself into her apartment, after what felt like a thousand years since departing Madison. The flight had been long and brutal; empty thinking space taken up by her favourite punishment, thinking of Owen. More specifically, the particular time they’d talked about how much of a blessing it was to become a parent. For the first time since they’d met, Claire had noticed Owen’s face fall slightly, the walls of his charming demeanour faltering. He’d leant back in his chair, interlinking his fingers and placing them behind his head. “You know, I’ve made so many people’s dreams come true here, right inside this little room of mine. It’s crazy. Hopefully, one day I’ll get to experience a bit of it myself,” he’d murmured, the look in his eyes telling Claire his thoughts were no longer in the four walls they shared, but soaring off into the future she ached to be a part of. Thinking about it now; as she clambered into bed, Claire couldn’t help but curse herself for not asking then as to his relationship status, to have saved herself from all the pain. “Oh, _Owen.._ ” She mumbled aloud, the weariness of the day’s travels causing her eyes to droop slowly. The silence in her home was shattered in an instant by the intercom buzzing, impatient and unforgiving. Scrambling out of bed and tugging her silken robe around her, Claire made her way towards the door. _Who on earth was calling at this hour?_ She wondered nervously, chewing her bottom lip profusely. “H- Hello?” She stuttered into the receiver. “Claire? It’s me. It’s Owen. Look, look - _please_ don’t shut me out. Please. I need to talk to you. I understand that you might not want to after what happened, but there’s something I gotta say.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A resolution for Claire and Owen..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with me! Kudos and comments are so appreciated. You're all the best - I hope you enjoyed this!

Claire Dearing _hated_ being proved wrong in life. In school, when she thought she’d scored an A+ in her finest essay, only to have her papers returned to her adorned with just a letter and no plus sign. In her career, predicting customer satisfaction levels to be just a _fraction_ higher than the eventual numbers. But all this paled in comparison to how much she hated being proved wrong about her earlier statement that the kiss she’d shared with Owen could never be eclipsed, because it was, and her whole universe was tearing at the seams as a result of how he was kissing her in that moment. After she’d nervously let him in to her apartment; shaking hands fumbling with the locks, he’d pressed her gently yet possessively against the wall, claiming her mouth for his own without so much as a greeting.

Claire found the strength inside herself to pull back, resting her hands on his biceps, fingernails seemingly missing the memo as they retained their grip for dear life. She was so _helplessly_ in love with him. “Owen,” she began breathlessly. “This isn’t _right._ You shouldn’t be here.. I’m about to drop,” she smiled weakly, tears pooling in her eyes as she cast her gaze downwards towards her burgeoning belly, “and you’re with Tory. This can’t -” Owen held a finger to Claire’s lips to silence her, eager to start his campaign. “Claire, I was an ass. I’m so fucking _sorry_ I never told you about Tory.. I sure as hell shoulda’. But, what does that tell you about our relationship?” He asked with an equally meagre smile, and Claire was alarmed to note the emotion causing turbulence in his usual confident, gravelly tones. Owen’s eyes, black pupils blown with pleading and circled by the most beautiful green, swam with as many tears as her own. He gently pressed his forehead against hers, emitting a sigh that spoke a thousand words. “I broke it off with her,” Owen continued in a hoarse whisper. “Things between us hadn’t been right for a long time, and I’m starting to think they never were, even in the beginning. It only took falling in love with a _certain_ patient of mine to realise that,” he breathed. Claire could feel her lower lip trembling as Owen’s hands skated slowly across her pregnant stomach, perturbed by just how _normal_ it felt - it just seemed so _right,_ so _perfect._ Claire hadn’t desired anybody’s support since Karen had lead her through the angst-filled blindness of her adolescence; mad at the whole world for not being able to make her father stay. The dam she’d built around that area of her mind, her heart, was being disintegrated slowly but surely by the man in front of her. The most beautiful explosion; she hadn’t been able to get clear of the blast in time, but she couldn’t regret it even if she wanted to. 

Owen framed her face tenderly, thumbs gently swiping away the salt water and mascara. “I want to be yours, Claire. Yours _and_ your baby girl’s. I want all of it, everything you can offer me. Like I said to you - I changed so many lives in my career, but I never thought it’d change my own,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Owen.. I don’t even know where to begin,” Claire started, her voice choked with unspoken emotion, before a strange dampness befell her bottom half, causing her to gasp in surprise as a wave of pain seared through her. “Oh, _shit_ ,” she moaned, throwing a hand against her forehead. Her breathing became shallow and she could feel herself erupting into sweats. “Claire.. your waters have broken,” Owen spoke so matter-of-factly that she was almost transported back to his consultation room; the baby just an idea and the two of them strangers, unknowing of the journey they’d take together. Now, he swept her into his arms and carried her with ease over to the couch. “It’s gonna be okay, baby. Just breathe. I know she’s not due just yet, but everything’s gonna be _fine_. I promise,” Owen’s voice rang clear and true in her mind, though she was lost in a wilderness of agony as the contractions began in earnest. “Owen.. _Please_.. Please don’t leave,” a strangled sob unlike she’d ever known ripped from her throat, raw emotion with nowhere to hide, memories of her father’s empty promises burning like a flare in the depths of her soul. “Hey, hey. Eyes on me, Claire. Eyes on me,” he whispered, thumbs resting on her temples as she opened her eyes. The sky and the sea - the blue and the green - two lonely elements fusing together. “I’ve got you, baby. I’ve got you _both._ If you’ll have me, that is,” Owen smirked, the tears journeying freely down his face as he leant in to press a chaste kiss to her lips.

_Seven Years Later_

“Lucy? _Lucy?!_ Lucy Rose Dearing-Grady, your guests will be here in _three minutes_ and if your butt isn’t down here before then I’ll tell them it’s cancelled!” Claire yelled up the stairwell, shaking her head in disdain as she made her way back towards the kitchen area. Large hands pulled her flush against a pillar of muscle, and she couldn’t help but smile as she was twisted around to meet the devilish grin of her husband. “She sure didn’t inherit any timekeeping skills from you,” Owen murmured, narrowing his eyes playfully at her. Claire smacked a hand lightly against his chest, tiptoeing even in her heels to kiss him. “Mmm. Apparently not. _Clearly_ her father hasn’t helped matters either,” she laughed softly as her fingers slid in to his unruly hair.

Lucy had surprised Claire many a time in the seven years she’d been in her life, not least by arriving nine weeks early. That night had almost been the most terrifying of her life, had Owen not been there by her side through each vital stage. The labour was rushed, painful; and Owen had single-handedly delivered her daughter just before the medics arrived. She’d been so _small_ , swaddled in Owen’s large hands, and Claire had been truly beside herself at the thought of her precious child not surviving. As soon as they had reached the hospital; Lucy - all 3lbs 7oz of her - had been taken from Claire and placed in neonatal care, and both she and Owen clung to one another physically and emotionally until Lucy was medically out of the woods. “I’m just as invested as you are,” he’d murmured into Claire’s ear as he kissed her hair one evening as Claire stroked her daughter’s tiny hand through the incubator. “I know,” she replied, leaning back into his strong frame for support. Claire couldn’t have faulted him throughout the entire process - they’d stuck together for her daughter’s survival, and she didn’t think she’d ever be able to repay him. Claire and Owen fell into the most loving relationship she’d ever had with such ease it almost _scared_ her. She felt as though she’d been searching for him her entire life; Lucy bringing them together in the most earth-shattering way possible. 

Eventually, they took her home - Claire’s apartment only temporary before they relocated to the suburbs. Her beautiful daughter grew exquisite red hair and freckles thrived on her chubby cheeks; memories of Owen dancing around the living area with a two-year-old Lucy on his hip were ones Claire would never forget. The day Owen carried Lucy out of the hospital, clasped against his chest in a gesture that was so loving and protective, Claire had thought her heart had no love left to give both him and her daughter, but she was proven wrong yet again, and she didn’t give a _damn._ “So.. She’ll call you Dad?” Claire proposed timidly as they reached his car. The doubts still swam in her mind, albeit drowning more and more as the days progressed and she watched Owen form a bond with her daughter that she wouldn’t test for the world. “Only if that’s what you want,” he’d said, eyes searching her own once he’d ensured Lucy was safely secure in her seat. “I can’t think of anything I’d want more,” Claire replied, biting her lip in an attempt to suppress the joy surging through her. “We can tell her, one day. Or not,” she continued with a shrug, and Owen pulled her to him in an instant, her small frame enveloped in his own as they stood in the parking lot, the beginning of their venture as a family, _a unit_ , the halves of her becoming a whole.

Now, Claire broke apart from Owen as she heard their daughter clatter down the stairs in a typical excitable fashion. “ _Yuck!_ You guys can’t do that on my _birthday!_ ” Lucy groaned at the sight of her parents in one another’s arms, covering her eyes with her hands and slumping against the wall. “Sorry, kiddo,” Owen chuckled, ruffling the seven-year-old’s auburn hair fondly. “Will Zach and Gray be here soon?!” Lucy enquired, bouncing on her toes and squealing in delight. “They sure will be. Why don’t you go and make sure you’ve counted all your presents right?” Claire asked, smiling down at the innocent joy emitting from her daughter’s face as she darted back into to the hallway, keen to see that her parents had got everything she’d asked for. 

Both Owen and Claire met one another’s gaze as she rolled her eyes in mock despair. “I don’t think she’ll ever stop being impatient,” she giggled softly, as Owen laughed in reply, hands caressing her rounding belly. A sibling for Lucy, another child for them both to love. If someone had told Claire that day when she’d sat in the waiting area at the clinic that in seven years she’d be married to the love of her life, with a child and another on the way, she’d have laughed sadly in their faces. An unconventional life wasn’t for everyone, but it’d worked out pretty well for her.


End file.
